


Day 15: Presents

by Sang_argente



Series: 25 Days of Fic 2.0 [15]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sang_argente/pseuds/Sang_argente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is that for me?” Stiles asked weakly, watching as Peter dropped the deer and moved to sit beside it, preening. “Thank...you…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 15: Presents

Stiles wasn't sure when or why exactly he had made the mistake of falling in love with a werewolf, but he was definitely feeling the consequences now. It was just his luck that, in the middle of Beacon Hills’s coldest winter yet, the full moon would fall on Christmas. So here he was, standing out in the middle of the woods just like he did every full moon. Except on this full moon he was freezing his balls off.

There was no mistake that the clearing he was in, the one used every moon by the humans as a sort of waiting place, was just as beautiful as it always was. In fact, he'd go so far as to say it was even more beautiful than usual. Snow had been falling for almost an hour, piling on the ground and sparkling in the moonlight.

It was just so damn _cold._

Allison and Lydia were sharing a blanket, curled up by the small fire they had burning as they patiently waited for Scott and Jackson. At least, Lydia _claimed_ they were patiently waiting, but Stiles could see the shivers creeping up on them the longer they sat there, regardless of the fire.

Stiles had been sitting with them earlier, but had moved once the moon rose. There was no sure way to know when exactly Peter would be back. If he returned only to find his mate next to what he considered a big threat, he would not be happy. With the moon pounding away in his blood, it was guaranteed to be messy. 

The girls had understood, not protesting when he moved to the far side of the clearing to watch Isaac circle them restlessly. Officially, he'd been left behind to protect them but, unofficially, he'd been left behind because he was still injured from the witches they'd tackled earlier that week. Either way, the girls alternated who they were shooting sympathetic looks at any given moment.

Stiles had just contemplated curling up under his own blanket and lying down in the snow to _die_ when howls shook the air. From the sound of it, the wolves were on their way back.

“Finally,” Lydia blurted out, having pulled the blanket up to her ears. If she blushed when Allison laughed at her eager response, it was impossible to tell. The cold had reddened her face too much already.

Sudden crunches and snaps sounded from between the trees, announcing the arrival of the wolves.

Erica and Boyd came first, hopping around each other playfully. Scott and Jackson came next, racing, and then Derek.

“W-where’s Peter?” Stiles asked, voice shaky with the cold and disuse.

If a wolf could roll their eyes, that was definitely what Derek would be doing. Stiles could tell from his body language as he tossed his head back toward the tree line.

Turning to look, Stiles froze even more than he had already, gaping. There, in all his glory, was Peter. He was dragging a huge buck, leaving an uncomfortably bright red trail in his wake. Stiles suspected the same redness was what was making Peter's fur gleam in the moonlight.

“Is that for me?” Stiles asked weakly, watching as Peter dropped the deer and moved to sit beside it, preening. “Thank...you…”

Peter rumbled deep in his chest, staring up at Stiles with satisfaction shining in his beta blue eyes. He barked once in confirmation, a short and deep sound, before bending to nuzzle at Stiles's leg, leaving bloody smears on the denim.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically to hide the affection he just knew was clear in them. Crouching carefully in the snow, he reached out to rub Peter's ears with reddened fingertips before leaning forward and kissing his snout, not concerned by the blood still slicking his fur. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> prompts open [here](http://stilesthesasswolf.tumblr.com) for any pairing and any fandom.


End file.
